


Beneath the Surface

by banditBlue2



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sensual Play, Skinny Dipping, Tower Climbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-05-24 17:16:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14958767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banditBlue2/pseuds/banditBlue2
Summary: While Matt Murdock is in college, he and Elektra sneak into a pool in the middle of the night for some skinny dipping.





	1. Immersion

Matt could hear the subtle rustle as she cast her clothes aside. He knew she was stripping completely naked. Elektra never did anything halfway.

“Come on, Matthew,” she taunted him in her sexy hard-to-place accent,.“Don’t be shy.”

So he obligingly followed suit and stripped off his suit. He dropped his cane and glasses down beside his discarded clothing and stepped barefoot across the cool painted concrete. 

A sudden splash alerted him to her cannonball, and he was thankful his clothes were far enough away to protect them from the splash of water which soon followed. 

He saw no point in letting her swim alone. That would be unchivalrous and unsafe. So he gingerly felt his way over to the edge of the pool. She still thought he was a normal blind guy, so he kept up the masquerade that he wasn’t aware of his surroundings. He let his toes curl over the edge of the pool.

He could feel the coolness of the water hovering in the air. The chlorine felt clean and refreshing as he breathed in deep. A long-dead memory awoke in his mind from when he went swimming as a young child, long before the accident. For a flash of a second, the memory of ‘blue’ surfaced, but then it was gone again, like all his other memories of color.

He could hear above the water, but not below it. Like a mirror of sound, which bounced everything off it in a muffled reflection. Now that Elektra had disturbed its placid surface, the reflections were more chaotic and wavy, but he could still make sense of them. A few yards away, he could hear the disturbance of Elektra’s body, a chaotic rip in the surface of the water. 

“How deep is it here?” he asked. He honestly couldn’t tell. 

“Jump in and find out,” Elektra called from the center of the pool. She was slowing drifting away from him.

So he jumped. 

He hadn’t been swimming since the accident. He had been too busy with school and training with Stick. And his father and the nuns at the orphanage didn’t have the money for an expensive membership to a private pool. 

His feet hit the water first. Then the surface engulfed the rest of his body, sliding up along his naked skin. Like being swallowed by cold silk. 

Once he was fully underwater, the world flipped upside down. He could hear everything under the water, but nothing above. The mirror was pointed down now, not up. Sounds from the various machinery underneath the pool were drumming through the water and bouncing off the undulating ceiling above him. 

Sound moved differently down here. Quicker. The denser molecules of the water transferred the shock waves better than air. He tried to remember things Stick had told him and things he had read in his Braille science textbook. Then a pair of scissoring bare legs kicked in his direction, and all the science and martial arts lessons faded away into irrelevance. 

He kicked up and surfaced beside her. The mirror flipped again. He could hear the water drip off her face as she smiled at him. He smiled back. 

She leapt on him suddenly, forcing them both beneath the surface. Her lips found his, and he tasted chlorine as they kissed underwater.

They kissed for what felt like an eternity, but he had to break the kiss and come up for air. He knew that if he didn’t, she would have kept them under until one of them passed out from hypoxia. 

“You’re too timid, Matthew,” she admonished. 

“So teach me to be daring,” he dared her. 

“Fine.” She spat out some of her wet hair that was plastered to the side of her mouth. “Follow me.”

And with a kick and a splash, she was gone, vanishing beneath the mirror. So he took a deep breath and dove down to follow her. She was heading to the deepest part of the pool, and he was swimming along, right behind her. He could feel the turbulence from her scissor kicks. 

She grabbed hold of a drain at the bottom, using it to keep herself in place as she sat on the pool bottom with her legs spread out in front of her. He heard the strange sound of her giggling underwater. She let a long spew of bubbles come out of her mouth, making her body denser. He did the same and sat down across from her. Neither of them needed a handhold anymore. Their mostly empty lungs were no longer tugging them towards the surface.

She tackled him again, in slow motion because of the water. He let her push him down on his back, and she pressed her small breasts against his bare chest. He palmed one of them, and felt her firm nipple press into his hand. Her lean and lithe body felt so good underwater. 

She cupped his manhood, which was growing firm despite the cold water. He had to fight the urge to gasp in air when she began to stroke him. He rocked against her and squeezed her breast. He felt the water around his face swirl slightly, as her mouth opened in silent pleasure.

Then his fingers began to tingle. He was running out of air, and the sexual arousal was making it worse. She tightened her fingers around his base. God, it felt good.

But the tingling was getting worse. He began to swim for the surface, but she pulled him back down. He opened his blind eyes, exposing them to the sting of chlorine in order to glare at her. To make sure she knew this was serious.

He was a daredevil, but that didn’t mean he had a death wish.

He finally kicked at her and propelled himself upwards. His head broke the surface, and he gasped for air. It flooded into his lungs in a mix of pain and pleasure. He was disoriented from the oxygen deprivation, and with his head above water, he couldn’t hear where she was below. 

“Elektra!” he called out in a strangled voice across the empty pool. Then he ducked his head underwater, only to find her right beneath him. She slid her body against his as she slithered up him like a ladder. She even gave his pecker a passing kiss as she went by. 

She broke the surface and water cascaded down her hair. She held her breath for a few more seconds, just to show him he was an idiot for worrying. Then she inhaled deeply through her nose and blew her hair out of her mouth when she exhaled. 

“That wasn’t funny,” he told her, but she laughed anyway. He couldn’t help but grin too. Her daring was infectious. 

He leapt on her this time, pressing nips and kisses into her neck. She tried to play it cool, but he could tell she was turned on and was losing control. 

They both forgot to keep kicking, and they sank beneath the surface again. He didn’t even notice the sounds flipping upside down this time. He was so focused on the taste of her wet skin and the feel of her floating breasts as they brushed against him. 

He needed more pressure against her. The water was a feast for the senses, but he had no anchor. He guided them over to the side of the pool, and grabbed onto the edge to push himself against her. She found his erection underneath them and guided him into position. He pushed himself slowly into her, and she moaned in pleasure at the penetration.

He waited a few moments to make sure she was comfortable, but she began to rock against him almost immediately. So he rocked with her, and soon, waves of pleasure were rippling out around and within them. They were an island in the sea, feeling the waves crash over them. 

◆ḅᛒ◆ḅᛒ◆ḅᛒ◆ḅᛒ◆ḅᛒ◆ḅᛒ◆

That night, Elektra lay in bed alone with her hair still damp. Thinking about the way Matthew had touched her in the water. 

So many men just couldn’t wait to get their hands on her, and when they did, they were only concerned about getting off as quickly as possible. Her needs were an afterthought. She had to fight for her own satisfaction.

But with Matthew, her needs were at the forefront of his thoughts, and she didn’t have to constantly be concentrating on her own body. She was free to focus on other things, like his body and how he felt in her arms. She could trust that if she let go, he would take care of her.

She had been sent to tempt him, but she found herself being tempted. She wasn’t supposed to let him see beneath her surface.


	2. Ascension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter art sources:  
>   
> Elektra art by [Camo-Flauge](https://www.deviantart.com/camo-flauge).  
> Matt Murdock art by [ladynlmda](https://www.deviantart.com/ladynlmda).

Elektra gunned the motor, and the vibrations traveled up Matt’s legs and deep into his bones. He hugged her tighter as the motorcycle shot through traffic, weaving amongst the late-night motorists and ignoring pretty much all traffic laws. Elektra rubbed her leather-clad ass back against him.

The sounds around them were suddenly muffled. He listened carefully, using the motorcycle’s purr like echolocation. There were trees all around them, which could mean only one thing in New York City.

Central Park.

She slalomed around any cars that were going slower than she wanted to go, and he held on securely, enjoying the feel of her in his arms.

“Hold on!” she yelled over her shoulder.

So he squeezed tighter, and they bumped over the curb, and he felt the pavement underneath them change. She was driving on one of the walking paths.

“I don’t think we’re allowed to ride a motorcycle here,” he yelled into her ear.

She didn’t respond, but he knew she could hear him. He sighed internally and let her keep going.

Finally, they rolled to a stop and got off, and she let the bike fall over on the grass. Matt listened to the sudden silence around them. Now that the motorcycle was off, he could hear the quiet whispering of the trees. They were deep in the Ramble.

“What are we doing here, Elektra?”

“I promised you a date,” she reminded him.

“I was expecting more of a wine and dine affair,” he said.

“Where’s the fun in that? Let’s be spontaneous!” She hefted a pair of bolt cutters out of the motorcycle’s underseat compartment and waltzed over to a chain link fence.

“Most spontaneous adventurers don’t bring bolt cutters,” Matt pointed out, but he couldn’t help but grin at her audacity.

She made quick work of the fence, and they slipped through her improvised opening and walked over some loose gravel intertwined with weeds. She guided his hand to a metal support, and he realized they were standing under an abandoned water tower.

“I didn’t even know this was here,” he said in amazement.

“Most people don’t,” she replied.

Then she hoisted herself up to the first rung.

“Last one there is a rotten egg,” she taunted, then clambered up another rung. “The view will be magnificent, trust me.”

“What’s the point in _me_ climbing up high for the view?” Matt made no effort to climb up after her. “At any elevation, I’m still blind.”

“Because it’s exhilarating to be up high, and I’ll describe the view to you in _rapturous_ detail,” Elektra explained impatiently. “Don’t worry, I’m _very_ good with my mouth.”

Then she was gone, climbing up the widely spaced struts with amazing speed. 

“If you’re too slow, I’ll have already come by the time you come after me,” she called down to him. “So, come on!”

So he threw his cane down and jumped up to grab onto the lowest rung. 

The thick pillars and the metal lattice work that supported them were still intact. The metal supports crisscrossed the structure all the way up, like a stepladder for giants. The main support pillars grew closer and closer together as they got higher.

The random clangs of his shoes and Elektra’s boots hitting the metal lit up the structure like random flashes. He could feel the cold thin rungs of the tower as he climbed up. Ancient paint peeled off in flecks which scattered to the ground below. 

The rungs were covered in thick paint. It was bumpy and soft in places, like it had been poured over the tower in a slow ooze. He could smell the iron in the air as the paint flecked off. Red paint. 

A flash of the color red ran through his mind. Colors were fading from his memory, one by one, but he knew instinctively that red would be the last to die. Red was the color of the blood from his dad’s boxing injuries, which Matt had carefully bandaged. 

They climbed higher, and the old familiar smells of the city were left behind. He was breathing harder from the climb, pulling in the sweet cold damp air into his lungs.

He could smell fish. Fresh fish, not rotting. There were lots of buildings between them and the ocean, but the smells were born aloft by the free winds. He climbed up another rung, and the smell of salt hung in the air. Like there were layers of scents here, each rung dominated by a new and different smell. 

When he was growing up, after the accident that stole his sight, he would wander around Hell’s Kitchen. He was still learning how to use his hearing to understand and sense the world around him. The sounds of the city were too chaotic for him to make much sense of them, but as he wandered around, tapping along with his cane, his other senses were alive. 

He could tell which block he was on just from the smell of each restaurant. Even the garbage had a story to tell him. 

Matt was so distracted by his memories and the new scents that he stopped paying attention to the tower. He grabbed the next rung, but it broke as he put his weight on it. 

For a second, he was in free fall before he managed to grab the next rung down. He was desperately dangling by a single hand, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he heard Elektra come back for him and stand on the rung he was clinging to.

“Help me up,” he gasped.

“But that would be cheating,” she told him.

“Damn it, Elektra, a fall from this height could kill me!”

“Stop thinking about your limits, and start thinking about your strengths.” She held the rung above her and balanced on one foot, while she hovered her other foot above his clinging hand. “Take a risk, Matthew.”

He glared up at her, but he was determined now. He grabbed the rung with his other hand and pulled himself up, then dropped down and used his momentum to swing around under the rung. He let go and flew through the air, reaching out blindly for his next handhold. He slammed into a rung on the opposite side of the tower. 

Behind him, Elektra whooped in delight. Then he heard her boots clanging again as she continued climbing. He followed her up, but from his side of the tower.

A few minutes later, he finally pulled himself up onto the top of the long-dry water tower. The surface was curved and cold.

He had to admit, it felt good to be up high. The air was cooler. Cleaner. The distant winds had nothing to dampen their speed this high up. He inhaled deeply, smelling fish and clouds and distant spices and car exhaust and ozone. 

Elektra was perched on the slanted surface, gazing out at the view. He sat down behind her, wrapping his legs around her sides. He set to work forming a hickey on the back of her neck. He felt her inhale sharply at the sensation. 

“Tell me what you see,” he asked, taking a brief break from her neck. “I want to see it through your eyes.”

“I knew a blind man once,” she said, ignoring his question. “He learned how to see without his eyes. He could hear the world as sound echoed off it. But sound can be chaos. Like strobe lights in a nightclub. They hide as much as they reveal.”

Elektra leapt to her feet suddenly. “Sometimes, you need a lighthouse in order to see.”

Matt stood up too, and in the gust of a salty wind, he didn’t notice that she had picked up a loose iron pipe. But he heard the swish as she swung it at his head like a baseball bat.

He ducked just in time and felt the pipe swish over his head, whiffing over his short hair. It hit beside him on the roof of the water tower, and the vibration quickly spread through the whole structure. Soon, the whole tower was shaking. Matt had to fight to keep his balance. It felt like his funny bone had been hit, but across his whole body. 

Elektra had dropped the pipe and was also fighting for her balance. He couldn’t figure out why she had attacked him so violently.

Then he understood.

The tower was like a giant tuning fork, sending out a steady and constant tone. The sound waves were bouncing off the land and trees around them, then coming back to his ears. His brain worked hard to decipher the signals and listen to the world. 

His awareness spread out across the park. Like crimson blood soaking into a bandage, revealing the shape of the wound beneath. 

He heard farther than he ever had in his life. The gravel-strewn ground beneath the tower. Elektra’s bike abandoned where she had dropped it. The spindly trees, covered in leaves. Hidden boulders, covered in moss and lost to time. Unknown to anyone but him in this moment.

The tower kept singing, and he kept listening. His awareness spread out farther and farther, like blood being pumped out to the extremities of the body.

There was a lake nearby, which wrapped around the Ramble protectively. Deeper in the park were walking paths, lined with metal benches and metal fences, and covered with arches of reaching tree limbs which curved overhead and formed tunnels of covering leaves. 

Bronze statues echoed back at him metallically. There were random fields and random ponds, and far to the north, the giant reservoir. He could her the edges of it but not the other side.

His hearing reached the buildings surrounding the park, and the tower’s cry shot quickly down the clear open avenues, suddenly free from the trees. The skyscrapers were harsh and angular after the soft natural curves of the park and its plants.

And in the middle of it all, Elektra stood in front of him, her lithe body balanced on the water tower’s metal roof. He had known she was beautiful, but it still took his breath away to really _know_ she was beautiful. He could ‘see’ her. Her whole body burning like a world on fire.

Her muscles tensed and relaxed, riding the tower as it swayed. The vibrations sang through her whole body and through his. The flames inside her were warm and detailed. Her face was lit up like a jack o lantern, her lips slightly parted and her eyes focused on him, fascinated by his reaction. 

She had done all this for him. So he could see the world. 

He stepped forward and pulled her into an embrace. Her glowing lips found his, and the heat of their fires burned in the kiss. He could feel the music of the tower and the joy of their love sing through their bodies. For one long perfect moment, he was at peace. Surrounded by constant noise, and comforted by his lighthouse in the storm. He clung to her like a drowning sailor clings to a seaside boulder, begging her to save him from the sea. 

But then, the clanging faded. The tuning fork slowly went still. The blood in the bandage was sucked back into the body. The world surrounding him slowly shrank and vanished, leaving chaotic silence in its wake.

Once again, he was an island in the dark. 

He had learned to be aware of his immediate surroundings. But the farther sound traveled, the more chaos corrupted it. It was an advantage in a fight. He knew everything that was going on around and behind him, but he wasn’t distracted by anything outside the immediate fight. 

And now, he was able to focus only on Elektra. To focus on her body as they both shivered in the cold. 

He reached out and gently cupped her cheek. Only a few fingers and part of his palm were in contact with her skin, but the warmth of her face made his hand feel alive. He could feel the rhythm of her heartbeat under her skin. 

He leaned forward until his lips were hovering over hers. He could feel her breath tickle his chin, and the smell of her lipstick swirled in the cold winds. 

She dug her manicured nails into his hair, pulling him in for a deep kiss. He slipped his tongue in between her lips, letting her lipstick smudge around his mouth. He’d been told that men look weird with lipstick on. But he was blind; he didn’t care. 

She pulled him down on top of her as she laid back on the cold weatherbeaten steel. He held back, not wanting to hurt her. He tried to brace himself with his elbows, so she pushed his arms out sideways until he fell on top of her lithe body. He could feel her breasts through her thin shirt.

She quickly shed her shirt, so he cast his aside as well. She wasn’t wearing a bra, something he already knew. He pawed at one breast roughly as he sucked on the other one. She moaned loudly, letting the whole stratosphere know of her pleasure. 

She suddenly rolled them over, so he was on his back now. She used his chest to push herself up to stand over him. It knocked the breath out of him. He laid there, gasping for air, while she slipped her boots off and wiggled out of her tight pants. 

She knelt over his face, and he gripped her thighs so he could press his face even harder into her sex. She arched her back, letting the cold winds caress her naked breasts. 

“Get it out,” she ordered, with mock authority. 

He obligingly freed himself from his pants, then continued to slide his pants down. But she was straddling him before he got the waistband past his thighs. 

“No time,” she said. 

She grabbed his already erect member and positioned him against her entrance. He gasped as he felt how hot and slick she was. 

She hovered above him, poised with him not quite in her and not quite out of her. He could feel her thighs quiver as she struggled to not sink down around him. 

He groaned with desire. She smirked down at him, knowing how much he wanted this. 

“Elektra, please,” he managed to gasp

“If you want me, take me,” she told him. 

So he thrust up into her, sliding in with ease. She gripped his shoulders, hanging on like she was riding a bull at a rodeo. 

“Yee-haw,” she said jokingly, but it still sounded sexy in her throaty accent. 

He slipped one hand over her throat. He had no intention of choking her, but he knew the idea of it turned her on. 

He could feel her hair undulating and cascading over his hand. He caressed the side of her neck with his thumb. 

“You’re-“ She tried to say, but she stopped with an involuntary groan. He smiled as he realized he had overwhelmed her to the point of interrupting a witty retort. 

He suddenly dug his fingers into her thighs, keeping her snug around him as he came. He could feel her slick folds fluttering and humming around him as she came right after him. 

Then they were both through, and she fell on her back beside him, breathing deep with exhaustion and contentment. 

“Matthew,” she said with a huff. 

“Elektra,” he said with a sigh. 

He reached down to hold her hand. She almost seemed confused by the gesture, like she wasn’t used to displays of affection after sex. But she quickly relaxed and let him squeeze her hand.

He felt so content. Like he had finally found himself, and finally found someone who understood who he was and who he could be. 

He fell asleep with this beautiful creature next to him. He woke up a short while later. She was gone. 

◆ḅᛒ◆ḅᛒ◆ḅᛒ◆ḅᛒ◆ḅᛒ◆ḅᛒ◆

Matt was used to her leaving while he was asleep. She would probably contact him in a few days, with no explanation for her sudden departure.

He went to crouch on the edge of the water tower. The singing vibrations were gone, but he could still hear distant car horns and traffic. The sounds oriented him and helped him understand the city he lived in. 

People like his dad and Stick had always expected great things of him. That he would protect this city from those who wished it harm.

But now he was just focused on himself and his studies and girls. But Elektra wasn’t like the other girls. 

She was a devil who dared him to be more than himself. 

Everyone else looked at him and saw a blind guy or a law student. They only saw him for what he was or who he tried to be. But Elektra could see right through his facade, and she saw something in him. The potential for something more.

He liked what she saw when she looked beneath his surace.


End file.
